


The First Dance

by lionessvalenti



Category: White Collar
Genre: Canon Het Relationship, Community: schmoop_bingo, Dancing, F/M, Het, Pre-Canon, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-02
Updated: 2011-02-02
Packaged: 2017-10-15 07:35:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/158531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionessvalenti/pseuds/lionessvalenti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the eve of their wedding, Peter and Elizabeth have a beer on the roof.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Dance

**Author's Note:**

> Beta read by Lefaym.

It was unseasonably warm for October, but there was a chill in the nighttime air as the wind blew across Elizabeth's face. She wished she had put on her jacket before coming up onto the roof. She also wished that she had brought up a second beer, the first bottle sitting empty at her feet.

Peter's apartment in Brooklyn Heights was too small for two people, but Elizabeth loved the neighborhood and the fact that his building had roof access. Her apartment came with a roommate and her roommate's cat, so when they decided to move into together, the decision about where to go had been easy.

"Hey."

Elizabeth turned around in the beat up old lawn chair to see Peter standing there. He was holding two open beers, like he had been reading her mind. At least half of it. She smiled. "Hey. You were asleep."

"Just dozing," Peter replied. He handed her one of the beers and sat down in the chair next to hers. "I woke up and you were gone. I figured you were up here."

"Yeah. If I had known it was going to be so nice, I would have planed an outdoor wedding. In the park, maybe."

Peter nodded. "There's a small park across the street from the hotel. Maybe we can take some pictures there during the reception."

She looked up at him and smiled. "You're just full of good ideas."

"I try." He paused, studying her face for a moment. "Nervous?"

"A little bit," she admitted. It was easier to be calm when she was with Peter and reminded of all the reasons she wanted to marry him, but this was still a big commitment. Being nervous was natural. "You?"

Peter shook his head and he grinned. "No, not at all. I can't wait for marry you."

"Well, great," Elizabeth said, half laughing, "now I feel terrible for being nervous."

"Don't," he replied. "I'd be nervous if I were marrying me, too."

She elbowed him in the ribs. "Stop it. Don't talk like that." She took a drink of her beer and rested her head on Peter's shoulder. She shivered and he pulled away from her.

"Cold?"

"Sort of. I should have put on a jacket before I came out here," she replied. "It was a lot warmer this afternoon."

He set down his beer on the ledge and pulled his grey hooded sweatshirt up over his head and handed it to her. "Here."

"Now you'll be cold," Elizabeth said, but she took the shirt. She knew he wouldn't take no for an answer and she liked wearing his clothes. They were all far too big and smelled good. She was constantly stealing his work shirts to wear around the apartment. He never complained.

"I don't mind," he said and wrapped his arm around her again once she was wearing the sweater.

They sat there for a few minutes, nursing their beers and watching the lights of the city beyond. It was the one the things Elizabeth liked about Peter: they could be silent together. She never felt like she had to fill the space with mindless conversation.

"Hey," Peter said, gently nudging her. "Guess what."

"What?" She lifted her head from his shoulder so she could see his face.

He smiled, his eyes lighting up. "It's midnight. It's our wedding day."

There was something so genuine about Peter's face. He always wore his emotions so freely with her and right then, he was practically giddy. Nervous or not, Elizabeth knew that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with this man. The idea of doing otherwise was too horrible to even think about.

Beer still in her hand, she flung her arms around his neck. "I want to marry you so bad," she said, her face buried in the crook of his shoulder. She was surprised to hear that the sound of her own voice was choked up.

Peter's hand cupped the back of her head, his fingers stroking against her hair. "Just fourteen more hours," he said. She was pretty sure he might have been fighting off a few tears himself. That was when she considered the real possibility that they might both sob through the entire ceremony.

"Too long," she mumbled. She was grateful that she hadn't heeded to the insistent advice of her friends and her mother that it was bad luck for the groom to see the bride on the wedding day. She didn't believe in such things and she wanted to wake up in the morning with him lying beside her, and know that she was the one who got to marry him. She needed it.

Peter chuckled and kissed the top of her head. He pulled back a little and said, "Come here."

"Where?" she asked, slipping her arms from around him. She couldn't get much closer to him, unless she crawled into his lap.

He plucked the beer out of her hand and set it down. He stood, and pulled her to her feet. "Here," he said, leading her away from the roof's ledge to a more open space. He rested his hands on her hips and took a soft step forward.

"Are we dancing?" Elizabeth asked in disbelief. Peter could actually dance quite well, but he wasn't one for doing it willingly. She knew he wasn't looking forward to the big "first dance" during the reception.

"We're dancing," he replied with a sheepish smile.

She laughed and leaned forward, resting her head against his chest as they swayed together to no music.

"This is our first dance," Peter said, an air of decisiveness in his voice. "It's our wedding day and we're dancing."

"I think that's for after we're married," Elizabeth replied, smiling. "But we'll let you off on a technicality."

He laughed softly into her hair and said, "I like this better. Just us on the roof with a couple of beers--"

"With me wearing your sweater," she added.

"Right. This is more us than wearing fancy clothes in front of everyone we know."

Elizabeth nodded. "You're right," she said. "This is our first dance."


End file.
